So, considering that I’m single and have, in the past, had more than my share of dating misadventures, I’ve obviously had my share of the man-hating conversations with my girlfriends. These conversations, when I was in college, occurred under the giant tree outside the college canteen with all of us lolling and dishing out relationship advice like pros to the girls who actually had boyfriends. Sometimes, we ventured into scandalous territory and talked about sex. Those were not fun conversations, because most of us were still virgins and really didn’t know about being confident about it. That was also a time when the prude gene was still strongly bonded to me.
In Delhi, the same conversations often occurred in room no.21 that belonged to my friend N, who I visited in July. These conversations were a bit more risqué. One of the girls was almost engaged to this guy, so she had a lot to offer in terms of relationship advice. She was also gorgeous and half the batch was leching at her and trying to find an excuse to stay outside the girl’s hostel to get a chance to lech. The remainder of the group was in various stages of singledom and enjoying living it up. However, being in a new city and not knowing anyone came with the added attraction of doing something stupid and running away from it. A “what happens in Vegas” type situation if that makes sense. Build-up aside, my life in Delhi was not half as colourful as I thought it would turn out. Drunken misadventures aside, I mean. Those are a whole different story board! :-|
After Delhi, I moved to Chennai to do my MA at Mad Uni, and led a more intellectual life. And was in the most emotional relationship I’ve ever been in. Like ever. When we broke up, I couldn’t eat for a few days! When I don’t eat, people around me begin to worry. It’s a sign of something bad. No talks of amorous escapades in that time. My friend J and I were the kind of people who know without having been told about what the other person was going through. If I had that kind of telepathy with a man, I’ll jump off a roof in joy! (See, an event like that is an actual sign of the end of the world. I refuse to stick around to watch it actually happen :P)
It was only when I began working, in 2007, that these conversations even took on the tint of what actual man-bashing conversations were supposed to play out like. By this time, we’d been in and out of one stupid man-related situation or the other. Met most of the jerks that resided in the city and dated a couple of them to add to the overall effect. By this time, I was too cynical about life. You don’t grow older with the Gospel of Shruthi preceding you into every fucking conversation you’ve ever had with people and not turn cynical man. Every ass in town has judged you and will only say inane shit like – but you’re nothing like the rumours. Erm, rumour believing is if I’m a highly paid individual, like a celebrity. I’m your everyday fat chick with everyday self-esteem issues; WTF gives you the right to run around listening to rumours about me? I mean, seriously?! Get over yourself. I’m not going to forgive your dumb self because you told me I’m nothing like the rumours, bleddee!
Enough abuse now.
Back to the girl talk post.
My girlfriends and I take great pride in dissing men we know, knew and are trying to know. Their behaviour is fascinating and funny. I mean if you’re interested then just bloody say what you have to say and get it over with. How much time does it take you to come right out and say what you need to say to woman you want? I mean, seriously? But no, you have to flirt, and some other assorted nonsense that will lead to conversations with girlfriends that overanalyse every idiotic syllable out of your mouth! Pah! I’d rather spend that time and money (most of this happens over coffee or alcohol) on doing more interesting things. How many books I could have read? How much TV I could have watched? How many Fabindia kurtas I could have bought? Which brings me to the big question of this post; how the EFF will I kill time if these conversations don’t happen? How much can I read? How much TV can I watch? How many Fabindia kurtas can a girl own? It’s an extremely annoying situation.
However, if you read this book, He’s Just not that Into You, your only job as a girl would be to just get out there and leave the rest to the boy. Baaki sab time waste. Aiye. Where’s the fun in that? If it was that black and white, the world wouldn’t have so many problems. As time has gone by, a new colour has been introduced into the melee that is life, it’s called grey. We need to take it more seriously...